ET.48.] ORIGIN OF HIS RECTORSHIP—LETTER TO GRAY. 179 smoke no more in my study, but transfer all my fuming meditations to a spare garret. My fancy also riots by anticipation in the luxury of a geranium-colored paper, with gold leaves, to harmonize with the glory of my gilded and red-bound books! But here my poverty and my vanity are at loggerheads. And who knows whether this study may not at last send me to the spunging house? With regard to the bust,* I daresay my sculptor thinks me mad not to let him finish it; but, alas! I have neither leisure nor fortitude for another sitting. T. C." * * * * The first hints respecting the functions of Lord Rector, to which he was very soon to be called in his native University, are thrown out in the following reply to a communication that "he had a strong party among the students of Glasgow, who, if he accepted their invitation, would ensure his election." "SEYMOUR-STREET WEST, February, 28, 1826. "I own to you that, although now approaching to what is called a Dumbarton youth, I have still youthful ambition left to wish to visit Glasgow on such honorable terms; and really, I do not think it would do any harm to the good cause, if it did take place-so far, at least, as to prevent the Tories getting replaced in their Rector-elections. I have a presentiment that it will take place; though I have completely fortified my mind against eventual disappointment. Belief is something towards its own realization. Grotius, in describing the success of the Batavians, in breaking the Spanish yoke, says beautifully -Credendo fecerunt! Let us go on in this belief. Mean while, whatever be the issue, believe me, that I shall feel equally sensible of your kindness, whether it be that I sup with you, as Lord Rector, at Glasgow; or that you dine, and condole with me for my non-rectorship, in London. "I have added a side-house as a study to my establishment, where I am getting up my books in capital order; and when you come to town, for the aforesaid purpose of consoling me for my disappointment, it is there we shall laugh over the matter. "T. C." This topic, once started, supplied materials for regular correspondence with his Glasgow friends, whose confidence in the result was daily increased by passing events. It is unnecessary, *By E. H. Baily. Ordered by Mr. Thomson, by whom a copy was presented to the Glasgow University. See vol. I. Note, page 105. however, that we should enter into these with more minuteness than is merely sufficient to show the progressive steps by which the object was attained; and, while endeavoring to perform this duty, I shall continue such extracts* as may bring before the reader the more private, but not less interesting, traits of the Poet's life, during the exciting period that had now commenced. By the end of March he announces, with much satisfaction, that he had taken possession of his library, and asks the congratulations of his friends on the propitious event. But the happiness he had promised himself in this, as in other important arrangements, ended in, at least temporary disappointment; for he writes-"I have had sad, racking headaches, occasioned by the smell of the paint in my new study; yet, thank Heaven, I have got into it; and it is comfortable in all other respects." In a few days later, he adds, "I am thankful that my headache, having no longer the pretext of the smell of paint for tormenting me, has modestly spared its visits; and I find my twentyfeet room a more agreeable asylum than I even expected; but still still I long to breathe the air of Sydenham!" Again-"I like the extent and quiet of my study; for it seems to give me room and repose to think of all things pleasant -and among these, there is nothing pleasanter than to be entitled by old use and wont-which constitute a right-to be, your affectionate friend. T. C." May 7th." On Saturday morning I projected a trip to Sydenham, just to breathe the fresh air and to lunch with you. But no; I was obliged to coin an extempore in the course of five hours. Our poetical department was desperately desolate this week; so I was kept at work from eleven till five, making five very so-so stanzas. Then I had to dress and go to the anniversary dinner of the Artists' Benevolent Fund; while, all the way, I had to muse on the pleasing uncertainty whether it would be necessary for me to make a speech! . . . During my hackneycoach journey to the Freemasons' Tavern, I composed ten sentences, making each of my fingers-thumbs, of course, included -the representative and remembrancer of a sentence. "Well, I arrived at the place of execution; dinner began, the * In selecting some of these paragraphs, the reader, perhaps, may think me injudicious; but I cannot exclude instances of various humor which, however apparently beneath the notice of a great mind, are very characteristic of the Poet, and show that habitual gravity is no test of superio philosophy. ET. 48.] ARTISTS' BENEVOLENT FUND DINNER. 181 room was 'heatified' to suffocation; whilst the conversation on all sides prevented me from rehearsing to my own devout soul, what I should possibly say. . . . I felt a head-ache—such as Í had on Monday-coming on. . . . I asked Mulready, who sat beside me, if he could get a list of the toasts intended. He succeeded in getting one. Overjoyed, I saw that there was no mention of my name; my head-ache left me, and my spirits rose to serene gaiety! Moore was but second from me, and the conversation delightful. When, horrible to relate! Mr. Shee got up, and, in spite of the written list, proposed Moore's health and mine! Moore, the rogue, had evidently a neat speech by heart, about stars and astronomy.-But I will save you further agony on my account. I looked earnestly at my thumbs and fingers, and then spoke for about ten minutes without break or hesitation! A plague on public dinners, with their afterpieces and gluttonous insincerity! Yet, after all, I was not insincere in my gratitude to Moore, for rising first, and allowing me time to count my fingers. The Honorable F. Robinson was chairman, and spoke very well in the chair. He alluded to his father, with an affectionate ardor that touched a string in my heart, which vibrates still. I lost sight of the statesman in the man; and it was this that made me feel really flattered, when he spoke of me kindly in his speech, and came up and shook hands with me, when the meeting was breaking up. T. C." "June 6th. My old friend having ceased to manage the opera, I applied to the only man who can now give me tickets. He has promised me a box to the piece you mention; but, I am sorry to say, he has more than once disappointed me, and has the character of a promising genius; but I will try to keep him to his promise. I was provoked with myself for overlooking the vile misprint in the "Wild Flowers," where birchen glades are printed broken glades."* ... Early in August, Campbell lost the younger of his two brothers, whose brief history has been given in the introductory chapter of this work. To the circumstances there mentioned, I will merely add, in one short sentence, a trait of feeling and * "I love you for lulling me back into dreams! Of the blue Highland mountains and echoing streams, delicacy which this event called forth, and which was very characteristic of his heart. Writing to a private friend, and not knowing in what circumstances his brother's family might have been left-yet fearing to give pain by a direct questionhe begs him "to apply the bank note inclosed in his letter to the purchasing of mourning for his sister-in-law and her infant family." In acts of this kind-and several have come to my own personal knowledge-Campbell always enhanced the kindness by anticipating the request, doing "good by stealth, and blushing," it might truly be said, "to find it fame." While the arrangements for the election of a new Lord Rector were in active progress, Campbell was kindly, but urgently requested by his friends to make his personal appearance amongst them. A serious return of illness, however, had again laid him up; and, to an application from the same quarter, he replied as follows: "SEYMOUR-STREET WEST, October 10, 1826. ". . . I write in such torture with the rheumatism, that I can hardly hold a pen; yet, thank God, not so ill as I was. I was at one time on the eve of writing to you, to advertise my inability to go down to Scotland-whether the election were to succeed or not-and thus prevent my name being put up at all. But now, though I have not got rid of pain, I have got above the alarm and despondency which exhaustion occasioned; and you will agree with me, that this nomination having been once talked of, I ought, as a brave man, to face even the danger of defeat. I may be worse-I may be driven to Bath as a last cure; but the election will be over this month, and it would be a pity to anticipate my case getting worse. I must leave the matter entirely to your own discretion, in which, as in your zeal and kindness, I have unlimited confidence. The subject of my letter to D. is to thank him for his public eulogium, which certainly deserves gratitude, and shows a very warm heart. I write in a state of pain that makes it difficult to collect my thoughts; but the election, as I have said, must be in the main left to itself. T. C." This attack was so protracted and severe as to preclude the hope of visiting Scotland within the limited period; but, after three weeks' confinement, the subject is thus resumed :-"Nov. 3rd.—I have recovered from the paroxysm of rheumatic pain, in which I was yesterday. I really wish I had not troubled you so much about the business of the Glasgow rectorship. If you ET. 48.] ELECTED LORD RECTOR OF GLASGOW. 183 have made it known in G. that I expressed to you the fear of being able to visit you, I must abide by the natural effect of my writing under too strong and painful excitement: but, otherwise, my commission to you is, to do nothing. Let us wait the event. I know that you are by much too prudent to have done anything too much in the way of assisting me; and now I am convinced that, with all your friendship, you cannot do too little. We must let the matter take its course. "T. C." "Nov. 6th.-. In any discrepancy which you may perceive in the tone of my letters, you must make allowance, not only for my being very unwell, but for my being in a state of great uncertainty about my pecuniary affairs. I am now better -but my affairs are not. I got in bills on Saturday morning, for the making up of my new house, treble the amount expected; and also confirmation of an acquaintance being bankrupt, for whom I had advanced the deposits on three shares in the London University. . . . I could not now accept the rectorship, if it were at my option. If I travelled to accept it, it must be on borrowed money. Friends I have in plenty, who would lend -but I fear debt, as I do the bitterness of death. . . . I know not what is going on about the election, more than a vague rumor that some of the students meant to propose me. Last week I saw nothing that could induce me to forbid my name being put up; but before its close, I have seen that, let my chance be great or small, I could not accept the honor if it were offered me. I request you therefore to thank, in my name, such of the students as intended to vote for me; and to assure them, that I am fully sensible of their kindness; but that I beg not to be considered as a candidate. . . . I trust you will add that the circumstances, on being explained to you, appear to be very cogent,* and make it impossible for me to leave my family at this time, without the most serious inconvenience. T. C." How far his friend and relative acted upon this candid avowal does not appear; but, with the generosity of his character, it is known that the pecuniary obstacles that stood in Campbell's * Circumstances connected with the painful state of his son's malady are here stated, which far outweighed all pecuniary obstacles, and apparently left him no alternative but to decline the honor proposed. But other views were soon presented which enabled him to accept the high office to which he was invited. |